Yesterday while we were in the Post and Parcel store, the mailman came in to pick up packages. Jack pointed and yelled, "Look, Momma, it's the REAL mailman!" Everyone laughed. We followed him, watching as he took the boxes outside to load into his truck. "Look Momma, he drives a REAL mail truck!," he yelled again. I said, "Let's wait for him to load the packages. He is sorting them into piles. Those are probably presents people are mailing to their Nanas and Mamaws."
We waited and waited as he sorted the load. I was sweating, of course. When he re-emerged from the back of the truck, he rolled down the window to wave at Jack. Jack waved back excitedly and said, "I am already going pee-pee!" as a puddled formed at his feet.
The mailman said, "Uh-oh!", chuckled and waved at ME apologetically, and drove off into the sunset.
All the way home, in his carseat wearing nothing but his spare Diego underwear and sunglasses, Jack could not stop talking about the day he met the REAL mailman.
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